


Anchor

by Thingsthatgobumpinthenight



Series: Lord of the Flies Modern AU [1]
Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: Consensual Sex, M/M, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-17 06:03:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17554784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thingsthatgobumpinthenight/pseuds/Thingsthatgobumpinthenight
Summary: Roger’s violent streak ran in his veins at all times. That voice in his head, it whispered and whispered, and once upon a time, Roger simply obeyed. Until Simon. Simon was a peaceful anchor in the choppy storm of Roger’s thoughts, a resting place.Mentions of gory thoughts, and much actual smut, mildly rough, with a dash of pepper within. Modern AU, ages not explicitly stated but they are very much of legal age, older and living together.





	Anchor

**Author's Note:**

> About four days ago, I questioned RogerMon very very much because I'm not Roger's #1 fan at all and I want to protect Simon at all times. Having bounced it around with someone, we decided it would work in a modern au, which we devised. Roger still feels those sadistic tendencies but Simon is very much a reason not to give in to them. Sometimes, Simon lets the beast run wild, trusting Roger deeply (for some reason I can't comprehend but Simon is pure and perfect, I don't question him).
> 
> Mentions of gory thoughts, and much actual smut, mildly rough, with a dash of pepper within. Modern AU, ages not explicitly stated but they are very much of legal age, older and living together.

Roger’s violent streak ran in his veins at all times. That voice in his head, it whispered and whispered, and once upon a time, Roger simply obeyed. Until Simon. Simon was a peaceful anchor in the choppy storm of Roger’s thoughts, a resting place – and truly, he liked that rather more than he’d care to admit. He quietened the voice with reminders of the rewards of being good, but he did not silence it.

Simon truly was the best reward of all. 

But still, it ran through his blood like a deep-seated need to hurt, to bite and tear flesh from bone, spill blood on the cream carpet until it seeped to the wood beneath and left a permanent stain. A permanent reminder. Some days, with Simon beneath him, sweat between them, Roger shook with an entirely different emotion to Simon. That _fight_. He’d never laid a hand upon Simon. _Couldn’t_.

As a result, he tended to treat Simon with kid-gloves, kisses and touches always gentle. He kept that beast on a tight leash around his boyfriend for fear it should run wild.

If he thought Simon didn’t know, he was very wrong. Although they never discussed it, Simon sometimes saw the way Roger shook when they were merely play-fighting, rolling around, trading kisses with Simon’s laughter between them. The amount Roger’s body shook did not match anywhere near the amount of effort required to win their game. Perhaps a dangerous thing to play-fight with the beast lurking, but Simon trusted Roger. Even with that glint in his eyes, Simon trusted him. Sometimes that knowledge scared Roger more than the voice itself.

“ _Roger-_ ” Roger was startled from his thoughts by a whispered moan above him, Simon having recognised that distant look in his boyfriend’s eyes and the shaking travelling from Roger’s body up to his own. He _knew_. Those damn trusting eyes raked over Roger, legs working tirelessly to move over him, pleasuring them both.

“It’s okay.” Was whispered next, hands finding hands and pulling them closer, around him, forcing Roger to sit up and press closer. It was a dangerous move, lips finding Simon’s pulse almost immediately and feeling blood pulse beneath them. He nipped with a shaky breath, following it up with more kisses and nips. The image of burying his teeth into skin and ripping filled his mind and he forced himself to look up to saintly, innocent, Simon, to distract from it, pressed his hips up just slightly as Simon rocked down to meet him, forcing the most delightful whines of pleasure from his boyfriend’s lips.

“It’s okay.” Simon breathed, watching him, before sinking his teeth into his own lip, head tipping back as each rock of Roger’s hips brought forth more pleasure. Quite unable to help himself, Roger growled softly and pushed forward, half-tackling Simon onto his back and following smoothly. It wasn’t okay. Simon _didn’t know_ , truly, what he was offering, what he was _giving permission_ for. But then arms were winding round Roger’s, hands resting on his back as nails took purchase in his skin, dragging across skin as he thrust forward. A less-soft warning growl escaped Roger’s lips as he buried his face against Simon’s shoulder, forcing his focus on the way warm skin arched up against him, pressed in all the right ways, wrapped around him and forced him to feel. 

“It’s okay-” This time it was broken, the increasing force of Roger’s movements as the beast stirred, knocking the breath out of Simon. _God_. Did Simon even know what he was doing to him right now? Roger jolted against his boyfriend as nails caught on skin in just the right way that he knew would leave marks. Something in him snapped, hands seeking out Simon’s hips in a bruising grip. At a soft wince, his eyes flew back to Simon’s gaze, desperately seeking reassurance, permission, _anything_. Finding he was met only with a vigorous nod, Roger’s thrusts turned violent, leaning over Simon’s body in a way that forced him almost in half, teeth biting into skin in a way that would leave marks for days.

He would apologise for it later.

Low, whispered moans became cries beneath him, and Roger, so often silent, moaned freely against Simon’s skin. One hand found blonde hair to pull his lover’s head back, granting him easier access to bite at skin, leave a series of marks Simon would struggle to hide. A thrill ran through Roger, curling in his stomach and only adding to his intense arousal. When he’d realised Simon would happily leave his head tilted back for him, both hands settled on the backs of Simon’s thighs, broken, jagged nails digging into the flesh there as he pushed, giving himself an easier angle.

The voice whispered in a way that enticed Roger, images and ideas, but he had to listen - he always made himself listen to Simon. One ‘ow’ or ‘stop’ would see Roger ceasing all action in favour of ensuring Simon was fine. As much as he wanted to _break_ , he didn’t want to break Simon. His little peace, his calm in the storm, he deserved so much more than Roger and yet he gave himself to him, over and over.

With that thought, he was spilling over in Simon, a hand moving quickly between his boyfriend’s legs to satisfy him, surprised to find his lover having finished already. He hadn’t seen Simon touch himself. The thought sent a thrill through him that Simon had enjoyed this as much as him, and a smile drew across Roger’s face, even breathless as he was.

A delighted laugh was pulled from Simon’s lips as Roger leaned down to shower him with kisses, eventually meeting his lips and kissing him deeply, hand resting lightly on his cheek. He shoved the beast back down in its box, having satisfied it somewhat. “Love you.” He breathed against Simon’s lips, sweet, wonderful Simon who beamed back at him who seemed to know, seemed to understand all it took to keep himself in control.

One day, Roger was sure, Simon would realise he deserved far better and it would all come crashing down, but until then, he’d keep a tight hold of his anchor.

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is always accepted! 
> 
> However, I don't care if you think two men getting it on is wrong. I don't care if you think Roger is incapable of relationships (cos like, same bro, except in my very specific modern universe). I don't care what you think William Golding would think of this fanfiction. I'm immune to shitty comments so don't waste your time.


End file.
